At a Crossroads
by AramauFierySecretary
Summary: Arkoth is faced with a difficult decision. Is this some sort of... test?


Arkoth Wormwood did not need to sleep. He had not needed to for over a decade. Part of the curse of being bound to his own armor was that he could no longer enjoy the blissful release of sleep, the decadence of food and drink, nor the pleasures of laughter.

_So,_ he wondered, _how am I here?_

Somehow, his consciousness had been whisked away to a familiar yet distorted location. In front of him lay a weeping dual-headed dragon, frozen in agony. To his left, the lush green landscape of the dragonlands had been warped to show the anguished faces of people who had been slain in the arena. He could hear their cries on the wind, but their faces stayed still. To his right, Jalerom lay dead with Faerthurin, Amber, Jeminya, Ivan, and Rose crying over his lifeless body. Tears falling from Amber and Ivan's faces hung in the air, freshly shed and frozen in time. Arkoth felt a haunting sensation of chest-tightening and eye-burning empathy before he realized…

He could _feel_.

He took off his armored glove. There was his hand! He hadn't seen his hand in ages… It looked the same it had before he died, as if he hadn't aged a day. Through some twisted turn of events, he had his body back. Only for him to be greeted by the most sickening sights he could imagine – sights that he had created – and to feel the visceral pain and empathy that accompanied them.

"So," a slow voice intoned behind Arkoth, and he whirled around as fast as his armor would allow him to face the owner. "You have arrived."

"Arrived?" Arkoth repeated, trying to make out who was speaking. The body was in shadows and the voice was distorted by what he assumed was the illusion that had been placed on him.

"At a crossroads," the voice said. "I am here to test your mettle, Warden of Directian. And whether your intentions are good enough to pave your road out of Hell." The shadow began a slow walk to Arkoth's left towards the Heroes of Jeminya mourning over the half-elf's body. Arkoth followed him and positioned his body so that he was always facing where he believed the shadowy figure to be. He placed his hand preemptively over the grip of his sword, ready to draw, but the figure just chuckled.

"That will do you no good against me," the being remarked, invading the sorrowful scene and flicking the frozen tears out of his path. They landed with soft clinks at Arkoth's feet, perfectly shaped tears as clear as crystal, as the being commented, "Afraid, are you?"

"I would be lying if I denied it," Arkoth replied, "What do you ask of me? For what purpose have you summoned me here?"

"As I said, to test you." The shadow waved what appeared to be his hand and the images surrounding Arkoth dissolved. A small part of Arkoth was relieved that he didn't have to see those scenes anymore – they replayed in his own head enough – but that relief was soon swept away when the shadow stepped into the circle of light where Arkoth stood and was finally revealed.

Speculo Malum stood in front of him, his face grimly set and his blue eyes narrowed at his old friend. Arkoth could feel his newly-returned blood drain from his face as he faced the former King of Directian. In his peripheral vision, he could see a weeping Queen Glasya, a frightened young Jeminya, and a young Simula screaming in a storm of fire. His focus, however, was on his king.

"You betrayed me, Arkoth," Speculo growled in a low, calm tone. "And it began the night you failed to keep agents of Heironeous out of the palace."

Behind Speculo, the scene changed to one where he was lying in a pool of blood with Glasya laid atop him, weeping and cradling his head, and a much younger Simula holding her father's hand. He could hear a frightened young girl screaming in the wind and knew the scene took place after Jeminya had been whisked away. Arkoth tried not to look, but it seemed the dream realm he inhabited had other ideas as his eyes remained riveted to the image.

Speculo continued by asking, "Where were you, my most trusted captain, when I was taken from my family and my kingdom? Where were you when my eldest was stolen from her weeping mother? Where were you, Arkoth Wormwood, when my child was forced to incinerate the assassins sent after my family?"

Arkoth had no answer.

A brief flash of what appeared to be an angry devil-form Glasya attacking a shadowy figure with a glowing sword morphed into an image of Jeminya training in a monastery and Simula watching with her signature devious smirk on her face. The same smirk that Arkoth had found so charming now repulsed him, and he scowled at the pre-teen version of the princess.

"My girls grew up without their parents – I dead and Glasya forced to return to Baator – because you _couldn't do your job, Arkoth_," Speculo hissed and began to circle Arkoth, who was strangely rooted to the spot. "I gave you everything I possibly could, and you let me down. You fell for the warped charms of the daughter of the patron of lust and played right into her hands. You killed and tortured your people for her, people who had trusted you to keep them safe! You were supposed to be better than that! You are a soldier, Wormwood!"

"I know I failed you! I know I betrayed you!" Arkoth bellowed, and darkness fell around him, though he could still feel Speculo circling him. "By everything I hold dear, I never meant for any of this to happen!"

"I am glad you said that," his shadowy captor whispered.

Another familiar voice in an accent that he never understood how it had been acquired called out, "Arkoth? Where are you?"

The armored Warden's stomach dropped to his heels at Hana's call but he couldn't move to comfort her, so he said, "I'm right here, Hana. You're all right."

"She can't hear you or see you," Speculo explained as Hana became illuminated so Arkoth could see. She was crouched in her normal defensive pose, a sort of catlike pouncing position she adopted whenever she had managed to be cornered by an unfriendly devil, but she was scrambling because she did not know where the threat was coming from.

"Let her go," Arkoth demanded, and Speculo came into his field of vision.

"You said you swear by all you hold dear that you never meant for what happened to happen. Well, there it is," Speculo said, "Everything you hold dear. So you swear on her life that you did not mean to betray me?"

Arkoth hesitated. It was true that the initial invasion of the palace had been due to a failure on his part. The assassins had managed to sneak in thanks to a guard that Arkoth had assigned to the princess' rooms who turned out to be a spy for the clerics. He never had a good feeling about that particular guard, but he had to be fair and give him a chance, and his failure in judgement had cost the kingdom a decade of advancement from the Old Regime.

But his actions under Simula were a different matter entirely.

"When I spared your life," Arkoth said measuredly, "I never foresaw a day where I would enjoy torture and despair. I simply did what I thought was right. And I continued to do so until…" He swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat as he remembered Princess Simula, her violent charms, and her twisted plans. "Until I allowed myself to give in to those baser, selfish, and cruel pleasures. I used the guise of 'duty to the throne' to explore and experiment with life and death, and I caused much pain… to the queen I was sworn to protect, especially."

Speculo eyed the pitiful hunk of armor, and Arkoth felt as though it would be most fitting to dissolve away himself. He could only watch as Hana desperately sniffed around her little enclosure of light, searching for either Arkoth or a threat.

"You claim to have turned over a new leaf," the ghost of his friend began, "yet you still carry evil with you."

"What I did with Simula… I knew I was causing pain. I knew it and not only did I not care but I _enjoyed_ it. I do not even remember why. Was it the power? You and Jeminya had power and you used it for the good of others, not the agony. Was it the respect? The sadistic glee? I still do not understand fully why the evil deeds I did brought sensations of joy to my soul, and I fear I never will," Arkoth pondered aloud, but Speculo shook his head.

"You allowed yourself to be fooled by a beautiful woman, a crime I am guilty of as well, but your weakness is what made you enjoy the pain you inflicted on others!" Speculo roared from behind Arkoth, and he flinched. "Your character, your mind, your soul were all weak and pathetic, so you had to destroy others in order to feel strong. You could only tear them down, you were _never_ strong enough to lift them up above you! I misjudged you, Arkoth Wormwood!"

"I know I failed you!" Arkoth yelled back, turning to face Speculo, "I am not the hero you wanted me to be! I know I failed countless citizens with my cowardice and my pride—"

"I could add a few more flaws to that list," Speculo snapped.

"But I am trying! To! Be! Better!" Arkoth bellowed, and the air seemed to vibrate with his fervor. Speculo surveyed him and smirked, and Arkoth realized that Simula had not inherited hers from only her mother.

"Show me. Destroy the evil you keep beside you," Speculo ordered and pointed over Arkoth's shoulder at the frightened child trapped in the only light he could see.

"You would say that about your own granddaughter?!" Arkoth barked in indignation.

"She is a tiefling, a direct descendant of Asmodeus, and the daughter of two of the greatest forces of evil Alatastica has ever had blight its lands," Speculo reasoned methodically, "Asmodeus wants to pollute the mortal realm with his ilk, and she is part of his schemes. If you have truly dedicated yourself to good, you will eliminate this loose end. You will correct the mistake you made of letting Simula fool you and following her plans so blindly that it cost you and countless others of my people their lives… and cost that child her soul."

Arkoth's shame drove him to turn his head and look at the girl he had raised to the best of his ability. Her eyes were wide with terror and blind to the comforting figure of her caretaker in front of her. Hana's stance had tensed even more, and he could see her nearly flinch in pain with each movement because of how tightly she had wound herself. She didn't deserve any of this, especially not to be burdened with the lineage she bore. He walked over to the edge of the circle and looked down at his daughter.

_My daughter..._

Then he turned around to face Speculo and drew his sword.

"I would rather die a thousand deaths than harm my daughter. And no king, not of Directian nor of Hell, could persuade me," he declared. Speculo opened his mouth to sneer at Arkoth, but he acted before a word could be uttered. He switched hands so that he was holding his sword in his left, threw the glove of his right hand to the ground, and cut off his own hand with a mighty swing. Blood cascaded from the severed stump, but Arkoth made no noise nor sign that he was in pain, determined not to show any sign of weakness or hesitance. He raised the bloody sword to point it at Speculo, who was mildly stunned.

"I will do whatever it takes to show you and anyone else that I understand what I have done. A man can change, even on the brink of death, and I have, at great cost. But I will kill anyone who tries to touch her for any reason, good or evil," Arkoth snarled, "Even you… Your Majesty."

With a blank look on his face, Speculo melted away into the blackness, and Arkoth turned back to comfort his daughter. But both Hana and the light she had been trapped in were gone. Arkoth was alone in the darkness, and he began to feel numb, then nothing at all.

* * *

The empty feeling of nothing returned as did his sight, and he was greeted with the walls of his room in the manor and a knock at his door. Literally pulling himself together, Arkoth rose to answer and saw Ivan beaming nervously up at him.

"Um, I know Hana is still missing, and you want to be alone, but… we were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast?" the gnome squeaked up at him, and Arkoth nodded after a moment. He felt that it would be best not to be alone, lest Speculo return to haunt him again. Ivan cheerfully grabbed his right hand and led him down the halls to the dining room. Arkoth followed passively, missing the shouting that usually came from the dining room, especially when Hana had been with them.

The two arrived, and he was greeted with warm smiles from most and disinterested glances from a few. He did not mind, and stationed himself by the door as Ivan scurried over to his seat beside Amber, slightly less grumpy after venting and fighting with Ravvas. The group ate in tentatively amiable chatter, except for Oin, who cleared his plate first. He excused himself by pushing away from the table and walking toward the exit.

He stopped briefly, however, next to Arkoth and did not even turn his head as he said, "I hope you had pleasant dreams. If not, at least enlightening."

The dwarf exited the room without anyone else having heard what he said, and Arkoth stared after him in awe, realizing once again that Oin Lightbringer was not one to be trifled with.


End file.
